


Only Time Will Tell

by ForeverAndAlways22



Category: Avengers, captain america movies
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 09:18:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7634725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeverAndAlways22/pseuds/ForeverAndAlways22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers doesn't know what to do when he finds Bucky, or rather, when Bucky finds him. He's got a lot of issues.<br/>So Steve enlists the help of a friend. Enter Juliet Morgan, ex SHIELD agent. Can Juliet help Bucky become the man he wants to be, and will helping Bucky help Juliet ease her pain?<br/>Only time will tell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Steve sighed and laid his head on Sam's dining table. Months. He's been searching for Bucky for months, but to no avail. He was just about ready to give up.  
Sam entered the room, looking sympathetic. "Still no luck?"  
Steve shook his head. "Nope. I'm gonna go for a run, be back in an hour. I've gotta work off some steam."  
Sam nodded. "Okay, Cap. Whatever you need."  
Steve grabbed his running shoes and headed outside. Taking a deep breath, he started on his regular route.  
An hour later he returned, worn and sweaty but his mind was more at ease. It was instantly thrown back into turmoil as he spotted a tall figure hiding in the shadows of Sam's house. Steve tensed as the figure stepped forward and his face was thrown into relief.  
"Bucky?" Steve was shocked. What was he doing here? How did he know where Steve lived?  
Bucky hung back, looking wary. "Who are you?"  
"I'm Steve, Steve Rogers. You know me. Remember?"  
His forehead creased in a frown, his blue eyes lost, confused. Afraid. "No-Yes- I think so?" He said questioningly.  
Steve pressed on. "Why did you come here?"  
Bucky frowned even more. "I don't know. I followed you, I don't know why. Who are you?"  
Steve smiled slightly. There was hope after all. "I'm a friend. And you're welcome to stay here for a while. What do you say?"  
Bucky nodded, still uncertain but willing to give it a shot. "Alright."  
                 •••••••••••••••••••••  
   It was harder than Steve had expected. Days passed with no progress, no change whatsoever. Sometimes he responded to his name, sometimes not. He ate irregularly, he barely slept, and he spoke a maximum of ten words every day. It hurt Steve to see him like this, but he didn't know how to help him. So one night, talking with Sam, he made a decision.  
   "Let's call in Juliet."


	2. Chapter 2

   I rang the doorbell of the address Steve had given me. Apparently this was where he lived, with a guy named Sam and someone else that he wanted me to help.   
   Seriously, the guy gave me no details. Just called me up one night and said, "Hey, Juliet, I need you to come to Washington DC as soon as you can to help a friend of mine. Here's the address."  I had no idea what he meant but I trusted Steve, so I hopped on the next plane to DC and came straight here.   
   The door opened and I found myself face to face with some black guy I'd never met. "Um, hi?" I said, uncertainly. "I'm looking for a Steve Rogers, did I get the wrong address?"  
   He looked confused for a minute, then realization dawned on him. "Oh, you must be Juliet! No, you've got the right house. I'm Sam Wilson." He held out his hand and I shook it.  
   "Juliet Morgan. Is Steve there?"  
   Sam began to answer but was cut off by Steve approaching and calling out, "Hey! Juliet! How are you?"  
   I raised an eyebrow. "Fine, but I'd be much better if you'd tell me why you called me here."   
  Steve grimaced. "Yeah...you wanna   
come inside? Get something to eat, maybe?"  
   I knew he was stalling but I was hungry so I just nodded and followed him inside, setting my bags down by the door. "Do you guys have any chocolate covered blueberries?"  
   They looked at me. "What?"  
   I rolled my eyes. "Chocolate covered blueberries. You've never heard of them?" They shook their heads. "Are you serious? No way! They are the best thing you will ever eat. We are so getting done later. What do you guys have?"  
    "Cheez-its?"  
    "Original?"  
     "Yes."  
     I shrugged. "I'll take it. Let me get myself some and then you can explain this whole thing to me."  
    Steve beat me to it, pouring the Cheezits into a bowl and giving it to me as I sat in the couch. They sat across from me in armchairs. I looked Steve in the eye and said, "Tell me why I'm here now or I will leave and get on the next plane back to Seoul. I kid you not."  
   Steve finally relented. "Alright. So you remember a few months ago when SHIELD fell and we discovered Hydra?"  
   I nodded not knowing where he was going with this. He continued. "Remember that guy who was on the news? The Winter Soldier? Hydra's weapon?"  
   I nodded again, feeling a sense of foreboding. "Well, he was my best friend from the forties that I told you about. Bucky?" I nodded a third time. "Well, he's been brainwashed and frozen about as long as I have. Also, he's kind of...in the other room right now."  
    A cheezit fell out of my mouth as it hung open in shock. "What?!"  
Sam cut in. "We have a brainwashed ex assassin the house and Steve wants you to help him."  
I looked at Steve disbelieving. "Steve, I'm sorry about your friend and I really wish I could help, I do, but I'm not a therapist. I don't know why you thought I could do this-"  
Steve cut me off. "You helped me."   
"Well, yeah, but you weren't an assassin! You weren't brainwashed!" I stood up to leave, but Steve grabbed my wrist. "Please," he pleaded, using those puppy dog eyes no one would think Captain America had. How could I refuse him now? Still, I remained silent for a long moment to watch him squirm. Then I relented. "Alright." They cheered and I smiled.   
"When do I meet him?"  
•••••••••••••••••  
Bucky lay on his bed in the room they had given him. He heard them calling him, but didn't know what for of if he should leave. The room felt safe. No eyes watched him here. It was different out there, with them.   
After a few minutes of them calling, he gave in and walked slowly out into the living room, his face blank, like he always kept it. He expected Steve and Sam to be waiting there. He didn't expect the woman.   
His first thought was that she was beautiful. Her long, dark hair tumbled down her back in loose curls. She had clear, olive skin and deep brown eyes.   
His second thought was to wonder why she was here. A question which, as it turned out, was answered when Steve began to talk.   
Bucky, this is-" he began, but the woman shot him a glare, stood, and walked over to Bucky. She stuck her hand out. "Hey, I'm Juliet Morgan."  
He was stunned. She was willing to touch him?   
"Bucky," he managed to say. She smiled and grabbed his dangling hand, shaking it firmly. "Nice to meet you, Bucky."  
"...You too."  
She released his hand and settled back onto the couch, eating something out of a bowl. He was still slightly wonder struck at her bravery. Maybe she didn't know who he was. Maybe that was why she had approached him so readily.   
He tore himself from his thoughts at the sound of their conversation. The woman, Juliet, was speaking.   
"So, what's for dinner?"  
Sam shrugged. "Takeout?"  
Juliet shook her head. "No."  
"I'm sorry?"   
Juliet smiled. "I said no. I just flew all the way from Seoul because you guys called me. I'm tired and jet lagged and hungry and you guys didn't have the common decency to have chocolate covered blueberries waiting for me. So no, I am not eating Chinese takeout out of a cardboard box. We are having spaghetti. And you boys are helping me make it."  
•••••••••••••••••••  
Much later, we sat around the table, enjoying spaghetti with garlic bread and salad. It was pretty good, if I do say so myself.   
Getting the boys to help me had been easy. They agreed readily after a little while. The hard part was instructing them in what to do. They all seemed to be hopeless in a kitchen. Really, how did they survive?  
It was worth it though. It really was delicious and spaghetti was one of my favorite foods. You can't go wrong with spaghetti.   
As we ate, we began to talk. It started with me asking for more details. Like where I would be staying. I voiced that thought.   
"Hey guys? Where am I gonna be staying?"  
Sam swallowed. "Steve's room."  
Steve choked on a tomato. I whacked him on the back several times until he could breathe again. Then I turned to Sam. "Care to explain this bright idea at all? Why would you decide it was a good idea for me to share a room with the guy it would bother most?"  
Sam shook his head. "No, not like that. I've got a pullout couch in my room, I was thinking Steve and I share and you take his room."  
Steve looked relieved but annoyed. "You didn't think to clue me in on this earlier? Then I wouldn't have choked on my salad."  
Sam shrugged. "I just thought of it."  
I smiled slightly. "Sounds good to me."  
We were silent for a few minutes before Steve spoke. "You said you flew here from Seoul. What were you doing there?"  
"Visiting my sister and her daughter. Her husband was away on a business trip and I needed to get away after the SHIELD fiasco, so she asked me to come visit. It was great seeing her again, and my little niece is the cutest little girl I've ever met. Maybe even cuter than two year old me."  
Sam chuckled. "I'm sure you were a tough act to follow."  
"I was."  
Steve looked concerned. "I'm sorry we tore you away from that."  
I brushed it off. "It was coming time for me to leave anyway. I couldn't stay there forever, however much I might want too."  
Just then I noticed Bucky's vacant expression and realized he hadn't said a word this whole time so, ignoring Steve's warning look, I snapped my fingers in front of his face and said, "Earth to Bucky!"  
His blinked. "What?"  
"You haven't said a word since we sat down. Actually, you haven't said a word since you met me. Don't you talk at the table?"  
"No."  
"Well that's changing now. Tell me something."  
"Tell you what?"  
"Something. Anything. Voice any thought that's running through your mind, ask me any questions you want to ask me. It's up to you but you have to talk."  
He shifted, hesitant. "Umm...why does Steve think you can help me?"  
Well, not the best first topic but I'll take it. Steve answered before I could though. "Because she helped me when I was just out of the ice. I didn't talk to anyone, didn't smile, moped around all day looking at pictures of my old friends. Then I met Juliet."  
Sam was intrigued. "What did you do?" He asked me. I grinned.   
"I followed him home, brought him lots of homemade baked goods, and told him that if he didn't smile in the next ten seconds, I would slap him."  
Sam drew in a breath and turned to Steve. "And what did you do?"  
He shrugged. "What else could I do? I smiled."  
We all laughed at this. Even Bucky frowned less. It wasn't quite a smile, but I'd take it.  
I kept talking. "It wasn't my greatest plan, but I hated seeing Captain America look like that. No one should feel that alone. So I did what I did. I figured he'd either snap out of it or kill me. And he didn't kill me, so I guess it worked." I finished.   
Sam whistled. "Damn, girl, you've got fire. I wouldn't mind taking you out sometime."   
I rolled my eyes. "Sure, why not? If you buy me every dessert I ask for and expect nothing romantic to come of it. I'm not gonna say no to you buying me dinner."  
Steve laughed. "Nice try Sam, but it's not gonna be that easy with her."   
I nodded and flipped my hair dramatically. "You've gotta work to get me," I said. Something most guys weren't willing to do. I kept that thought to myself.   
We finished dinner and cleaned up. I carried my bags to Steve's room and helped him bring some things out of it.   
"Thanks for letting me crash in your room," I said, realizing I'd never really thanked him.   
He blushed slightly. "No big deal."  
"Still, it's really nice of you. Thanks."  
"You're welcome."  
I gave him a quick hug and, saying goodnight to Steve and Sam, who responded, and Bucky, who didn't, I headed to bed. Exhausted as I was, I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm still pretty new to this so leave a comment telling me how I did. Also, writing for Bucky is hard, so any suggestions having to do with his recovery are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning I awoke to he sound of someone knocking on my door. "Juliet!" Steve called. "You decent?"  
I always slept in a sports bra and shorts, which is also what I ran in, so I shrugged and called back, "Yeah!"  
Steve opened the door and smiled. "Good morning, Juliet. How'd you sleep?"  
I smiled back. "Great. Your bed is really comfortable."  
"That's good. Well, Sam told me to get you up because breakfast is ready. Everyone else is already in the kitchen."  
"Thanks." I stood up and walked over to my suitcase, from which I pulled a loose tank top and a headband to hold back my wild morning hair. I put them on and walked with Steve to the kitchen.  
To my surprise, it smelled great. Sam sat at the table, but made a big showing standing up to pull my chair out for me. I laughed as he did and sat down, fluttering my eyelashes and saying, "What a gentleman."  
"Living with the Good Captain must've rubbed off on me."  
Steve sighed. "Like I don't hear that enough. Everyone always assumes I'm some Saint, and I'm not."  
I laid a hand on his arm. "To the rest of the world, you are. Now let's eat! Sam, do you have strawberry jam?" He nodded. "Let's bring it out."  
The pancakes were delicious, which was a pleasant surprise. When I told Sam this, he faked being hurt at the notion that I had expected otherwise. I laughed before getting Bucky's attention.  
"Hey, Bucky," I said, lightly touching his wrist. "Time to say something. You need to get used to voicing your opinions." Steve has explained last night the extent of what Hydra had done. I was horrified but didn't show it. It might give Bucky the idea that I was horrified of him.  
He said slowly, "I'm not used to this..."  
I smiled. "I know, and that's okay. But I'm here to help you, and part of that means getting you to voice your opinions. Remember, you're a person, and you have a right to say what you want."  
•••••••••••••••••••  
A person. Was he really? This was the first time anyone has ever flat out said that to him. A person. He tried to wrap his mind around that. Not an asset or a weapon, but a person. It felt strange, but nice.  
So he decided to do as she says and voice an opinion. He looked Juliet in the eye and said seriously, "Your pancakes look disgusting."  
To his surprise, she burst out laughing. It was a nice sound, clear and loud, like she was announcing to the world that she was happy. He couldn't imagine laughing like that. But he enjoyed it when she did.  
She was speaking now, gasping for breath. "I'm sorry, you just looked so... so serious, and then you say that, and I'm just..." She wiped her eyes. "Just really happy that you were able to say that, happy that you are forming opinions about such trivial things. It's a good sign."  
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Woah now, Julie. That is not trivial. Strawberry jam on pancakes is an abomination, a very important matter that needs to be dealt with."  
I slapped his arm lightly. "Shut up. Also, did you just call me Julie?"  
"Yeah, why?"  
"I don't know. No one's ever called me that before..."  
"Really? You never had that nickname growing up?"  
I shook my head. "Nope. My mom wasn't one for nicknames." I bit back the anger that came with thinking of her. "My little sister called me Juju for a while."  
Steve laughed. "Juju. I like it."  
I glowered at him. "Well, only she's allowed to call me that, so you'll have to settle for Juliet, Julie, or Jules."  
"Jules." I heard a quiet voice say. I turned to look at Bucky, who had just spoken without me pushing him. We were stunned. He looked up. "Jules. I like it." I met his eyes for a quick moment before he looked away.  
I smiled. "I'm glad you do," I said, finishing up my pancakes and starting to clean up.  
••••••••••••••••••  
Later that day, I opened the fridge, then the cabinets and was shocked by how empty they looked. Just how much takeout did they eat here? My mind was made up.  
   I strode into the living room where Steve was reading, Sam was watching TV, and Bucky was staring off into space.  I cleared my throat to get their attention and announced, "We're going shopping!"  
   Silence. Then Steve spoke up, looking confused. "Why?"  
   I rolled my eyes. "Have you guys seen your kitchen lately? It's way too empty and besides, we need to get chocolate covered blueberries. You guys haven't tried them yet and I'm pretty sure I need them to survive, so we're going shopping. And all of you are coming."  
   Steve glanced at Bucky, then at me. "Are you sure about this?"  
   I nodded, walking over to sit next to Bucky on the couch. I touched his arm and looked into his eyes steadily. "Can you do this?" I asked quietly, almost whispering. He looked uncertain, almost scared. I continued. "We can leave anytime. It'll be good for you, and I'll be there the whole time. I promise. Can you do this?"  
   He looked terrified but nodded. "Yes."  
   I grinned. "Then let's go shopping!"  
                •••••••••••••••••••••••  
   The drive to the supermarket was short, barely giving Bucky time to prepare himself. Entering the supermarket, he felt overwhelmed by the amount of people there. So many people. Any one of them could be Hydra. Just as he was about to run back to the car, he felt a warm hand slip into his. Looking down, he realized it was Juliet. She smiled up at him. "You can do this," she whispered encouragingly. He squared his shoulders and nodded, and they set off into the store.  
    Shortly after this, she surprised him again by telling him to pick anything that looked interesting or tasty or that he wanted to try off the shelves and toss it into the cart. There was no limit, she told him. Pick whatever you want. It seemed to good to be true.  
   At first he had trouble with this. Hydra has never given him any choices, and choosing what he wanted now was extremely difficult, especially given the fact that he remembered little to nothing from his past, and thus didn't remember what he liked. But as they went on, everyone grabbed things and done were tossed in, subs were put back, so it became easier to join in.  
   Juliet picked lots of fruit, fresh and dried and chocolate covered. She also seemed to like raw ingredients such as flour and sugar. Eggs went in, as well as sugar, butter, et cetera. Steve picked out meat and vegetables, while Sam loved snacks. He got cookies, crackers, and jars of something called Nutella that Juliet also seemed to love.  
    Bucky didn't know what to get. He only grabbed a few things, including fudge from the dessert aisle and a bottle of raspberry lemonade from the drink section. He didn't know what it was, but it looked interesting and Juliet had said to pick out interesting things, so he placed it into the cart. He also grabbed some mint gum in the checkout isle. It smelled good.  
   Juliet paid for the purchases, ignoring Steve's protests that she didn't have to. They loaded the bags into the car and left for home, Bucky still slightly awed by the freedom of choice he'd been given in the store. Maybe Juliet was right. Maybe he was a person. A weapon couldn't have picked out lemonade and gum from a shop, right? He pondered this as he helped the others carry in groceries. After everything he had done, was it even possible for him to be a person?


	4. Chapter 4

  The days passed in this way. Bucky got a little better but still had trouble regaining any memories. I grew frustrated at the label of progress.   
   Then one day I remembered a documentary I had watched years ago about memory loss and how music and foods were used to combat it. It was worth a shot.  
   I ran the idea by the others and while they were skeptical, they agreed. Bucky seemed doubtful that something like that would work, but agreed to give it a shot.   
   So I made a playlist of late thirties/early forties songs and would play them sometimes as we cooked or cleaned or wasted time. This didn't do much at first, but I refused to get discouraged. I also began cooking dishes similar to that era. We ate less pizza and more baked chicken and such.   
   After a while, it began to work. Bucky would regain memories at random, it seemed, sparked by anything. Often they were cheerful or harmless, like the time I made milkshakes and Steve spilled his. This caused Bucky to remember all the times Steve had done so at diners on double dates because of nerves.  I smiled at that, and Steve blushed.   
   Other times it was scary. He would have nightmares, and come into the kitchen in the morning with dark circles under his eyes, refusing to tell us why he hadn't slept. Even though we all knew.   
   The smallest trigger could send him into a flashback. Sam would grab his arm or clap his shoulder and his eyes would glaze over as he became the soldier, thinking he was under attack. He'd get lost in a vision of his time being tortured, and it took Steve sitting him down and me stroking his arm for several minutes to bring him back. The first time I did that he grabbed my wrist so hard it bruised, but that hasn't been repeated after he realized what he'd done and apologized profusely.   
   So we struggled through. Bucky fought hard to remember and was becoming slightly less isolated, though he still spoke only when we prompted him to, but hey, progress is progress.  
   On a stroke of genius, I gave Bucky two journals. One, I told him, was to write down his memories, his nightmares if he wanted to, so he could look at them later. The other was for him to record his likes, his dislikes, his favorite books or movies or foods or anything. He seemed shocked when I said this but I explained that not only would I like to get to know him better, he needed to know him better. Knowing what he did and didn't enjoy gave him an anchor, and helped show him that he was a person, and had a right to opinions.   
   He didn't take to it right away, but eventually he began to write things down and sometimes show me. I also encouraged him to speak up whenever we did something he did or didn't like. For instance, if he had a preference for dinner or a movie or if we tried something and he didn't like it. I assured him we wouldn't be offended.   
   After a while, he began to tell me. He never said it loud, but would whisper to me that he liked spaghetti or would rather have chocolate ice cream over vanilla. He'd murmur that he didn't mind when I touched him but didn't want the others to. Sometimes I'd relay this to Sam and Steve, but sometimes I'd keep it to myself.   
   He opened up to me more than anyone else, which I was both happy and sad about. But he always held back, said as little as possible, pulled himself inward, though less than before, and I wished I knew why.   
   Then came the nightmare.   
   My room was right next to Bucky's, with only a wall separating us. So I heard him thrashing around at night but never intruded. I didn't know what he'd do.   
   But then one night, at two in the morning, I heard a scream. It ripped through the house, barely muffled by the walls, and woke me up with a start. It was followed by another, equally bloodcurdling scream, and I scrambled out of bed and ran out into the hall. I stopped when my hand rested in the doorknob, hesitant. Should I go in? Was that really a good idea? Another, louder scream settled it. I opened the door and rushed inside.   
I gasped at the sight that greeted me. Bucky writhed on his bed, the sheets tangled around him as he screamed, as if in pain, as if trying to escape. I ran to his bedside and began speaking softly.   
"Bucky? Bucky, it's me, it's Juliet. You're okay, you're safe, it's just a nightmare, it's just a nightmare, Bucky. It's okay, you're alright, you're safe..." He calmed down a little. The screaming stopped and the writhing lessened slightly. I reached out and stroked his cheek gently. His eyes shot open and his metal hand shot out and grabbed my neck, choking me. I looked into his eyes, which were cold and empty. "B-Bucky..." I croaked. "It's me...Juliet..." Just as I was about to black out, his eyes softened and he let go, drawing his hand back. I collapsed on the floor, drawing in lungfuls of sweet air. I was never taking air for granted ever again.   
As my breathing began to level out, I became aware of the distraught man above me who was apologizing profusely.   
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I didn't mean to, I didn't realize it was you...Are you alright? Are you alright?" He kept repeating. I nodded and stood up once I could, coming over to sit by him on the bed.   
"I'm fine, Bucky. It's okay, calm down." His breathing was panicked, and I kept reassuring him until it slowed down.   
"What happened?" He asked, slightly calmer now.   
I responded, "You were having a nightmare, a bad one, screaming and writhing in your bed. I came in here, and started talking, and it calmed you down some but then I touched you and you freaked out again and choked me."  
He looked horrified. "I'm so sorry..."   
I shushed him. "It's okay."  
"You must hate me now."  
"No, I don't. You didn't know what you were doing."  
"But I hurt you..."   
I laid a hand on his arm. "It's fine, Bucky. You were having a nightmare. Do you want to tell me about it?"  
He hesitated for a minute, then said, "No. But I probably should." He took a deep breath. "I was being tortured again. I was falling, and they were cutting off my arm, and torturing me for information, and then I was being frozen and it was cold, so cold..." He trailed off, shivering, before picking back up. "And then they woke me up and I was killing people. Every person I'd killed...I saw it again. I did it again."  
He shuddered. "I refused one time, in the beginning. I wouldn't kill the target. It wasn't a real target, just a test run to see if they'd broken me enough. They told me to kill a family and I refused. Then they tortured me, wiped me more, for days without stopping, just sending in new people in shifts until I..." His face was deathly pale. "I killed the family," he whispered almost inaudibly, unable to continue.   
I continued stroking his arm, wishing I could do more, wishing I could make this better for him. "I'm so sorry," I whispered.   
"No," he said softly. "I am."  
I didn't know what to say to that, so we sat in silence for a while before I saw him suppress a yawn. I pushed him gently back down into a lying position, fixing the tangled sheets.   
"Alright, it's way too early to be awake, and you need sleep. Try and get some, ok?" I turned to leave the room but stopped as he caught my wrist, looking up at me pleadingly.  
"Stay with me?" He practically begged, looking terrified. "I don't want to be alone."  
Well how could I say no to that? I couldn't refuse so I nodded and slipped into the sheets beside him, laying in my side facing him. He gradually relaxed as I stroked his hair gently, breathing slowing until he fell asleep and eventually, so did I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments please!


	5. Chapter 5

  The next morning I woke up groggily, wondering where I was and... Hang on, was that Bucky that had his arm around me? What the...  
   All at once, the events of last night came rushing back to me, and explained why my neck was throbbing. I should probably get up and see how bad it was, but it was nice and warm next to Bucky, and I was still pretty tired, so I snuggled a little closer and fell back asleep.   
                  •••••••••••••••••••  
   Bucky felt it when she woke up. The moment she did, he did, but he pretended to be sleeping still so that he could gauge her reaction. He knew she'd leave, immediately, that she'd wonder why she was there and then remember what he had done and leave, leave the bed and possibly the house, possibly him. The thought had him feeling sick but he still pretended to sleep, waiting for her inevitable disgust and hasty exit.   
   To his surprise, it never came. Instead she shifted slightly before moving closer to him before falling back asleep, knowing where she was, and making no move to leave.  
  He couldn't believe it. It was to good to be true, and yet there she was, cuddling against his side, completely trusting the man who had almost killed her only hours ago.   
  Was she insane?  
  Yet no matter how impossible it seemed, he couldn't deny how good it felt to have her there. She was warm and soft and sweet in her sleep, and he couldn't keep himself from wishing that he had this every night. Nothing would be better than waking up every morning like this.   
                ••••••••••••••••••••••  
  I opened my eyes to see the sun streaming through the window. I groaned. How late had I slept? Was Bucky awake? Did he think I was weird for staying?   
   I lifted my head to look at him and started when I saw him looking down at me. Our eyes met, our faces inches apart. I pulled back slightly, not wanting to make it awkward.   
  "Thank you," he said out of nowhere.   
  "For what?" I asked, confused.   
  "For staying. I slept better than I have in a long time."   
   I blushed slightly. "I'm glad I could help."   
   "You did," he whispered, voice husky from sleep. I could listen to it all day. Unfortunately, we had to get up at some point, and I not only had to use the bathroom, but was also becoming increasingly aware of my sports-bra-clad chest, which was pressed against him. So I told him about the first one, and got out of bed, walking down the hall toward the bathroom and straight into Steve, who still looked half asleep.   
  "Juliet?" He asked, voice groggy from sleep. "Why did you come from Bucky's room?"  
   I squirmed slightly. "Oh. Well, I kind of slept with him," I responded.  
  "What?" Steve's eyes widened comically. I backtracked.   
  "Sh*t, no, sorry, that came out wrong. I mean I literally slept with him. He had a nightmare, a really bad one, he was screaming like crazy so I went in there and managed to calm him down but he didn't want to be left alone after it so I stayed and because it was two in the morning, I slept. That's all that happened, I swear."  
Steve calmed down and said, smiling slightly, "Wow. Why didn't you say that first? You trying to give me a heart attack?"  
I grinned. "Ha ha," I says dryly. "Also, do you know what time it is? Bucky doesn't have a bedside alarm clock like I do."   
"Yeah, it's 9:30 in the morning."  
Nice. I'd stayed in the bed longer than I'd thought. "Cool," I said. "Well, I'm starving right now. How bout you?"  
He nodded. "I could definitely eat."  
"Is Sam up yet?"  
He shook his head. "I don't think so."   
I gestured for him to follow me as I began walking towards the kitchen. "Come on then. Let's get something to eat."  
I decided on biscuits, since that's what I was craving and Steve didn't mind, so I began mixing the biscuit dough and putting them in the oven while Steve cooked bacon and sliced fruit. In just a few minutes, the biscuits were baking and the table was set. I sent Steve to wake up Sam while I walked back to Bucky's room.   
Knocking quietly and receiving an equally quiet, "Come in," I entered the room and sat on the bed next to him, brushing back his long hair.   
"Hey," I said. "Good morning. Breakfast is almost ready, so come into the kitchen within a few minutes, alright?" He nodded. I walked out of the room when he said nothing. It looked like he was back to his usual silence.  
A few minutes later we all sat down at the table and dug in. The biscuits were delicious, if I do say so myself. I also made sure to compliment Steve on his bacon, which I ate lots of.   
We ate quietly for a while before I broke the silence, saying something that had been on my mind for a while.   
"Hey, I'm thinking about cutting my hair. What do you guys think?"  
Sam and Steve both began to answer, but Bucky beat them to it, surprisingly. In a whisper so quiet I almost didn't hear it, he said, "Please don't."  
My eyes widened in shock. He had spoken without my urging! This was progress! They widened even more when he reached out his right hand and touched the hair in question, stroking it and running his fingers through the long strands gently. He met my eyes, smiling slightly. "I like it."   
Steve and Sam exchanged a glance as his hand left my hair. I was grinning like an idiot, and I knew it, but he liked my hair! This made me ridiculously happy as I replied warmly, "I'm glad."  
•••••••••••••••••••••  
Bucky sat on the couch, trying to focus on the book in front of him. Romeo and Juliet. Sam had had a good laugh over that, but Bucky ignored him. He vaguely remembered having to read this when he was in high school for a class, and sometimes it would spark memories. He couldn't focus right now though, because every time he saw the name "Juliet" printed on the page he thought of her, of the softness of her hair, of the way she held him as he slept, the way her lips curved and eyes sparkled when she smiled. Her smile was intoxicating... He blinked as he saw said smile appear in front of him. Juliet had come into the living room and settled herself next to him. "Whatcha reading?" She asked.   
He showed her the cover and she groaned, smiling. "Of course. Are you going to join everyone else I know in cracking Romeo and Juliet jokes about me now?"  
He blinked. "The thought never occurred to me."  
She laughed. "You'd be the first. Everywhere I go, it's always the same. 'Oh you're Juliet, where's your Romeo?' and various other versions. Even Steve."  
  "Even I what?" Steve asked, entering the room.   
   "You cracked a Romeo and Juliet joke back when you first met me."  
   Steve grinned. "Oh, yeah. I couldn't resist, you almost strangled me."  
   Bucky was lost. "What happened?"  
   "It was a few days after I threatened him with a slap and forced baked goods into him," she said, smiling slightly. "I was walking to the cafeteria to meet Steve with some idiot newbie agent who thought he didn't have to listen to me because, according to him, obeying a female superior was optional. Not to mention his pickup lines were terrible. I put up with him until he started flirting, and then I put him in his place loudly and thoroughly, before I sat down to eat lunch with Steve, who had overheard the whole encounter. I'm sitting there seething and Steve just looks over and says, "Was that your Romeo?" and I just about lost it. It was pretty funny afterward, when I'd cooled down though."   
  Steve grinned. "She looked terrifying. I was scared for my life. Especially after the way she dealt with that agent..."  
  Bucky leaned forward, curious. "What did you do?"   
  Juliet shrugged. "Well, he disrespected me first and then had the gall to try and flirt with me and I had had it. So in the middle of the cafeteria I punched him in the face and called him a pathetic chauvinist parasite, who took what he needed and left everything around him worse than how he found it. I told him to go home, rethink his life, and tread carefully around me from then on," she finished.   
  Bucky raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Wow."  
   Steve nodded. "It was really something. And then I went and cracked that Romeo joke-"  
  "Romeo?" came Sam's voice as he walked in. "Are we discussing Juliet's love life? I want in."   
   She groaned. "No, we're not discussing my-"   
   He cut her off. "I want details. Who was the last boy you kissed, and when?"  
   Bucky tried to ignore the sinking feeling he got as he imagined Juliet kissing someone else. He listened closely for her answer.   
Juliet's POV  
   I groaned. "Sam, for real? We weren't even talking about that."   
   He smirked. "We are now. Come on, spill. I just made everyone curious, so now we all want an answer."  
   I looked at Steve, who nodded, and Bucky, who appeared to be listening closely. I sighed and relented. "John Greene, back in high school."   
    Sam looked surprised. "High school? Girl, how old are you?"  
"Twenty-five."  
"And you haven't been kissed since high school? Pretty thing like you?"  
I blushed and shook my head. "Nope. I don't just kiss random people, and after John it was hard..." I trailed off, lost in thought. I was called back to the present by Sam's voice.   
"You need a date."  
"No, I don't." I glared at him. "I can handle my own relationships, thanks. I'll go out on a date when I want to, which, coincidentally, isn't now."  
He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Easy, Tigress."  
Steve laughed. "Tigress. That fits Juliet so well."   
I crossed my arms over my chest. "How so? Because I'm mean?"  
Surprisingly, it was Bucky who answered that. "Because you are strong," he said. "You let nothing hold you back, you let no one push you around, and you will do anything for those lucky enough to have you care about them."  
I was speechless. How was he so good at making me speechless? He said I let no one push me around. If only he knew how long I let people do just that... but he didn't, no one did, and I was going to keep it that way.


	6. Chapter 6

I was getting sick of being in the house, with only trips to the store and runs to break the monotony. Bucky still had nightmares, and very often I'd crawl into bed with him in the middle if the night and hold him until he slept. He was getting better around people though, and I wanted to get him out into the world a bit. Plus I was bored. The only problem was what to do on this outing? I didn't want it to be too long, and I didn't want to blow a bunch of money on something random. So I searched the web and puzzled, until one day I saw it. The perfect outing. It was something I'd always wanted to see.   
The International Champion's Cup.   
It was a new thing, where soccer teams from overseas came to America to compete in the Champions Cup to give us Americans a chance to see real soccer. And in just two weeks, my favorite team, FC Bayern Munich, was coming to North Carolina.   
I ran into the living room where they all sat watching the news and clicked off the TV, throwing a flyer down on the coffee table.  
"Let's go see the International Champions Cup!" I announced.   
They looked at me blankly, Sam looking vaguely annoyed that I'd turned off the news, and I began to explain excitedly.   
"You guys, in two weeks, my favorite soccer team, FC Bayern, is facing off against Inter Milan in North Carolina! There are still seats open in the Bayern section behind the goal, it's the opportunity of a lifetime, I'm gonna see them in person, this is so exciting!!" I looked around at their faces and said more calmly, "Who here has seen a soccer game before?"  
Sam raised a hand.   
"Only Sam? For real? We have to fix that! Who wants to go see one in two weeks? We need to get out of this house, you guys need to see a real soccer game, and I will go crazy if I miss this."  
Steve shot me a look. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" He glanced not-so-subtly at Bucky. I walked over and sat by him, looking him in the eyes. "Bucky? What do you think? You've been getting a lot better, it might do you good to get out of the house. It'll be a good opportunity for you to get some new likes or dislikes. I'll be there the whole time, I promise. Can you do this? It'll be fun."  
He seemed to think about it, then nodded hesitantly. "Yes."   
I cheered. "Steve? Sam? How bout you?"  
Steve agreed, but Sam declined. "You guys go, I'm not a huge soccer fan."  
"Neither are we," Steve said.   
"You haven't seen a game yet, maybe you can be converted. It's a great sport, full of teamwork and skill. I think you'll appreciate it, if not love it like I do."   
We takes for a bit longer and it was decided. Steve, Bucky, and I would go to the game, while Sam would stay behind. I went online and bought tickets for great behind-the-goal seats, then went back into the living room with a pen and pad of paper, sketching a simple soccer field outline. Time to teach them about the game. No one went to see Bayern without knowing what was going on.   
•••••••••••••••••••••••  
Two weeks later, on a bright Saturday morning, we set off in the long drive to Charlotte, North Carolina. We were ready. We had a cooler full of drinks, money for snacks inside the stadium, and red and white face paint for the game. We had spent the last two weeks going over the rules of the game, so that Steve and Bucky would understand and be able to follow along.   
I was so excited as I settled into the driver seat. In just a few hours, I would finally get to see Bayern play and share what I loved with the man I...   
I shook that thought out of my head and focused on driving, which was harder than it should have been considering Bucky was sitting beside me, looking great in red...  
•••••••••••••••••••  
Bucky stared ahead at the road, almost shaking with nerves. A large crowd, thousands of people he didn't know, had never met...any one of them could be Hydra. He was uneasy about the whole situation from the beginning, but Juliet's eyes had been so hopeful, so excited at the thought of attending the game, that he couldn't say no. He could handle it, for her. The look that she gave him when he said yes made it completely worth it. She had looked at him as though he was the best thing in the world, smiling widely, eyes sparkling, full of gratitude and happiness. He couldn't believe he had made her look like that.   
Then, as the days went on and she taught him and Steve the rules of the game, he began to appreciate it. Truly it took lots of skill and effort, not to mention the teamwork that went into it. He wouldn't mind watching it from the safety of Sam's house. The game sounded fun. Being surrounded by that many people did not.   
But he hadn't said anything as he dressed in a red shirt, blue jeans and a red baseball cap to cover his eyes, and her excitement began to rub off on him. He sat back in the car seat now, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hat and trying to ignore his good Juliet looked in red.   
•••••••••••••••••••  
We arrived at the stadium and gave them our tickets as we made our way to our seats, which were behind the goal but elevated so that we could see the whole field, not just the goalie's back. I painted a red stripe on each cheek, then a white stripe below that, grinning as I checked it in my phone camera. I'd always wanted to do that. I wore a Bayern jersey with a red headband, my hair pulled back into a high braided ponytail. Steve bought us each a soda and the players entered the field as they played the FC Bayern theme song. Bucky looked at me in surprise as I sang along in German.  
"You speak German?" He asked?   
I shook my head. "Just the song. Do you?"  
He nodded. "Yes."   
With that, the game started and I was swept up into watching Bayern work their magic. 

A/N: I could have gone into insane detail about the game but I felt like that's going to far off topic. This isn't a Bayern fic, so I left it there to keep from boring you guys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I could have gone into insane detail about the game but I felt like that's going to far off topic. This isn't a Bayern fic, so I left it there to keep from boring you guys.


	7. Chapter 7

After the game, which was a 4-1 Bayern win (Yay!), we went to get dinner at a small place along the way home.  
As we ate our burgers, we talked about the game. It had been spectacular, with four chances to sing the Bayern goal song. The entire stadium did the wave, which had caught Steve by surprise as everyone suddenly stood, then sat, much to my amusement. At one point, an Inter Milan supporter had spilled some beer on me, but I was pretty sure it was an accident, so I let it go.  
Bucky's POV  
Bucky had enjoyed the game, surprisingly. The team had worked together extremely well, dancing the ball around the opposition with incredible skill and amazing passes. But the best part by far was watching Juliet as she stood, cheered, sang in celebration, and completely let loose. She was so beautiful, he thought, smiling internally as she talked enthusiastically to Steve about a goal. A few minutes later, she excused herself to go to the ladies' room, and walked away.  
Juliet's POV  
I washed my hands in the sink of the bathroom, still in the highs of celebration after the game. I was so distracted with thoughts of our win and the way Bucky looked as he stood and sang in celebration when we scored, at my urging, that I didn't notice the person creeping up behind me until his hand clamped over my mouth and he stuck a needle into my arm, injecting something into me and I tried to fight, tried to scream, tried so hard and but I couldn't move, couldn't see anything but darkness as I fell into unconsciousness  
  Bucky's POV  
Bucky grew worried when Juliet didn't return. He voiced his concern and Steve waved it off at first, saying all girls took forever in the bathroom, but he also began to be concerned when she hadn't returned after half an hour. Riding from his seat, Bucky made his way to the bathroom and opened the door, eyes widening at what he saw. The back door's lock was broken, a note taped to the frame. Juliet was nowhere to be seen. He grabbed the note and felt bile rising in his throat as he read it. Bursting out of the bathroom, he ran over to the table, throwing the note down in front of Steve. "She's gone!"  
Juliet's POV  
I slowly regained consciousness. My head ached as the bright light hurt my eyes. What had happened? One minute I was having a great time with Bucky and Steve, the next I was...here? Where was here?  
A door opened to my left and I jumped awkwardly as I realized I was tied to a chair in the middle of an empty white room. A man walked inside and stood opposite me. I reached out with my mind to use my powers, but couldn't. Damn. They had suppressed them somehow. How did they even do that? Something in the injection? 

"Where am I?" I demanded.  
He laughed slightly. The sound gave me chills. "Somewhere...safe." I doubted that.  
"Who are you?" I asked next.  
"We are Hydra." Those three words terrified me but I did my best not to show it.  
"And what do you want with me?"  
He leaned down close to me. "We want the Soldier." He said in a harsh whisper. I shivered.  
"What makes you think I can help you with that?" I was proud of myself when my voice didn't waver.  
He smirked. "Don't play dumb. We know you were at the game with him. We had a suspicion that he was the tall man sitting by you, all we had to do was see his face to prove it. That Inter Milan supporter that spilled the beer? Hydra." Darn. I shouldn't have been so nice to him.  
"When he immediately leapt up to help you, we knew he cared about you. Our spy reported back to us with this, and we followed you to the diner and took you. We left a note. He knows where you are, and he will come back to us in exchange for your life." He fingered a gun in his belt as if itching to use it on me. "In the meantime...we find out whatever we can. By any means necessary." He signaled to a camera and a group of men came in, wearing uniforms and carrying various weapons. I squared my shoulders and prepared for the pain.  
Bucky's POV  
"We have to find her!" Bucky said, panicked, as he and Steve exited the diner.  
"I know, Buck, but we need a plan. We can't just charge in there." Steve reasoned.  
"They are torturing her!" Bucky almost screamed, brandishing the note he'd found. Hello soldier, it read. We have your girl at base 37. You have twenty-four hours before we kill her. Turn yourself in and she lives. Otherwise, she dies. Until you come, we'll have so much fun breaking her...  
"Steve, we have to hurry," Bucky pleaded. "We don't have time to wait. They're hurting her."  
Steve nodded. "I know. I'm just telling Sam what we're doing and where we're going so that if we fail, he can get some people together and get us out." He fired off a text while Bucky waited impatiently. When he was done, he motioned for them to go. "Come on. I have our suits in the car."  
Juliet's POV  
Everything hurt. I had no idea how long I had been here. Hours? Days? I had no way of knowing. My whole world was pain, all I could imagine or remember was pain. And blood; my blood was smeared and splashed all over the white floor. Even through all this, I hadn't told them anything. I hadn't been broken yet.  
"Where is the Captain?" My captor growled, kicking my leg and reopening a long gash there. I but my lip and said nothing.  
"Where is he?" He tried again, this time holding a knife to my chest through my torn jersey. When I shook my head, he cut a long, shallow gash down my chest, not enough to kill me but enough to make me scream in pain as a fresh spatter of blood hit the floor. He put down the knife and grabbed another one, twirling it in his fingers. My eyes widened in fear.  
Come for me soon, Bucky.  
Bucky's POV  
    Steve stopped the car outside the abandoned warehouse. This was where Juliet was being held. Bucky tightened his grip on the arm of his seat.  
Steve went over the plan one last time. Bucky would go in, pretend to be turning himself in, acting distressed and anxious for Juliet. That wouldn't be hard, seeing as that's how he actually felt. While he distracted them, Steve would sneak in the back entrance that Bucky pointed out and go find Juliet, take her, get Bucky, and get out of there, after planting a bomb if he could manage it.  
Bucky nodded impatiently and headed inside. A minute or two later, Steve followed.  
Juliet's POV  
  The man slapped me hard across my face, opening up a dozen cuts. "Where is the Captain?" He demanded. "Tell me now!"  
   "No," I rasped. He slapped the other cheek and raised a knife, tracing it around my neck. I swallowed nervously. I was in bad shape, bleeding from a dozen different places and bruises everywhere that I wasn't bleeding. My clothes were torn and I was losing hope that I would ever get out of this place.  
   Just as he began to make another cut, an agent poked his head through the doorway. "Sir," he said, addressing the man in front of me. "He's here."  
   The man smiled. "Good. Send in strike forces A and B to capture him." The agent nodded and left. My captor turned to me. "It seems out little plan has been successful. Thank you, Fraulien. Thank you very much." He leaned over, grabbed my wrist, and in one swift motion, he broke it. I screamed and he laughed, leaving the room. Leaning me to bleed to death. Hurry, Bucky.  
  Bucky's POV  
   Bucky entered the Hydra facility, walking through familiar hallways. He froze as he heard her screams echo through the building. He followed the screams through the labyrinth, beating off the people that came at him with ease. Screw the plan, Juliet was being hurt. He fought the first team with ease, and the second. As he got closer it got harder, but he managed. He had a mission.  
He reached her holding cell in a matter of minutes, bursting through the door. There stood the new leader of Hydra, Bucky could tell by his uniform. The man saw him approaching and held a gun to Juliet's head. "Easy there, soldier. Come any closer and my finger might just slip...wouldn't want that, would we?"  
Juliet's POV  
   My head throbbed but I held completely still, feeling the cold metal of a gun barrel pressed to my temple. Bucky stood across the room. He moved to come closer, but the man pressed the gun I to my head harder. I whimpered slightly.  
   "No, no, soldier." The man laughed coldly. "One wrong move and she dies. Hands in the air."  
  Bucky complied, glancing at the doorway. He was waiting for something. What though?  
   Oh! Steve! Of course! Bucky wouldn't have come alone, and Hydra wasn't expecting Steve. They didn't know he was with us; he'd been in the bathroom during the beer incident. Any minute now Steve would be here, I thought.  
Bucky looked worried. "Let her go," he ordered. The man laughed.  
"Of course, soldier. Once you are strapped back into the memory wiper. Once you are loyal to Hydra again, I just might let her go...and have you hunt her down." He grinned evilly. "How does that sound, Soldier?"  
Bucky glanced at the doorway again. The man saw it and laughed. "No, there is no escape. I have men in the hallway, just in case. First we will learn where the Captain is, then we will wipe you."  
I sighed internally in relief. So they didn't know where Steve was. Good. Bucky continued talking, obviously stalling, but the man didn't seem to notice.  
"How did you find me?" He asked, glaring.  
The man smiled. "The game. You should not have shown yourself to our spy."  
Bucky glared even more but immediately looked at me as I let out a small moan of pain. My broken wrist was really throbbing, adding to the pain I already felt from my various injuries. He moved toward me, stopping as the man shifted the gun again. At the look on Bucky's face, he held it up and waved it teasingly in the air. "Well, Soldier-"  
  A fatal mistake, as it turned out. We never did find out what he had been saying since the moment the gun left my head, Bucky leapt into action and tacked him, pulling him into a chokehold and cutting off his air supply until he dropped to the ground, the gun going off and shooting me in the leg. I cried out in pain as Bucky ran over to me, quickly undoing the knots in my bonds. "Juliet," he said urgently. "Hang in there, you're gonna be alright. We're gonna get out if here now. I need you to be strong." He scooped me up and stood, my vision fading as I passed out in his arms.  
Bucky's POV  
    I held her as gently as I could as Steve ran into the room.  
    "You good here?" He asked.  
   I nodded. "Yeah. Did you plant the bomb?" At his returned nod, I asked, "How long do we have before this place blows?"  
   "Five minutes." Shit.  
   "Alright let's go. We need to get her out of here. She's lost a lot of blood."  
    Steve ran after me. "I've got supplies in the car. We can fix her up some there and hightail it home."  
    I grunted an affirmative and we ran in silence for the car.  
   Four minutes later, we burst out of the underground labyrinth and sprinted for the car. Jumping in, we took off just as the building behind us exploded brilliantly. I sat in the back with Juliet laying across my lap as I did my best to patch her up.  
   When I had done all I could with out meager supplies, I cradled her against me and stroked her hair. "You're safe," I whispered. "You're safe now. I'll never let them near you again."


	8. Chapter 8

   I was sleepy, so sleepy. So tired and the bed was so soft and warm. I just wanted to sink down into it and sleep forever...  
   But someone was calling me. I wrinkled my brow as I heard, distantly, a voice calling my name. It was a familiar voice, and it was asking me to come back, to wake up. I frowned. I didn't want to wake up, not when I was nice and warm here, but something about the voice had me struggling to wake up. I tried and tried, straining against the warmth and finally collecting enough strength to open my eyes.   
   "Bucky?" He was staring down at me, worried. My voice was raspy, but I spoke again. "Bucky?"   
   He sighed in relief. "Juliet! Thank goodness you're awake. I was so scared."  
  I frowned slightly. "How long was I out?" I asked, dreading the answer.   
  "Two days."   
   Wow. Two days. I must be in bad shape. "What happened after I passed out?" I asked, curious this time.   
  He shrugged. "We blew the place and headed back here. We fixed you up as best we could. It was rough, but you pulled through. You're not even close to recovered, though."  
  "What injuries do I have?" I had lost count somewhere in the endless onslaught of pain.   
   He listed off, "A gunshot wound in your leg, a broken wrist, a big gash on your head, a fractured rib, and numerous cuts and bruises. Hydra went all out."   
   I felt slightly faint. "Where is everyone else?" I asked to distract myself.   
   "Asleep," he responded. "It's two in the morning."  
   I frowned. "Why are you up?"   
   He looked down. "Couldn't sleep," he mumbled. "Not until I knew you were okay. Head wounds are unpredictable; you might never have woken up."   
  I smiled slightly. "Well, I'm awake and have no intention of dying, so get some rest. You haven't slept in two days?"   
  He shrugged. "I dozed a little, in this chair."   
  "Have you eaten?"   
  He murmured sheepishly. "No."  
  That did it. "James Barnes, go in that kitchen right now and make yourself a sandwich. Or several. You need to eat." I cut off his protest. "I promise not to die while you're gone."  
   He smiled slightly. "Okay. You want anything?"   
   "A blueberry smoothie," I replied. He nodded and I heard the sound of a blender moments later. I sighed happily. Bucky made amazing smoothies. I was in good hands.   
   A few minutes later he walked back in with a sandwich and a smoothie with a straw stuck in it. He held the cup for me as I slurped happily. The smoothie was violently purple, loaded with blueberries; just how I liked it.   
   When I finished, I felt drowsy. I fought to keep my eyes open but he noticed. "It's okay," he assured me. "Go to sleep. I'll be here."   
  "But you need sleep too," I protested. He grinned and gestured to his chair. "I've slept in worse places."   
   I gave in and nodded. "Fine. But soon you'll be back to a real bed," I yawned, my eyes closing. He brushed back my hair with gentle fingers. "Of course. Sleep well, doll."   
   And I did.   
                   ••••••••••••••••••  
   I awoke to light streaming in through the window. True to his word, Bucky was asleep in his chair by my bed. He immediately awoke as I groaned slightly. My whole body hurt.   
   He jerked awake and immediately asked if I was alright.   
   "I'm fine," I said. "It just hurts..." He understood.   
   "Do you want some painkillers?" He asked and I nodded. "Please."  
    He poured some from a bottle on my bedside table and gave them to me with a glass of water that was also there. I swallowed them gratefully and smiled. "Thanks."   
   Just then, Steve and Sam entered the room. "Look who's up!"  
   I grinned. "And feeling fine," I said sarcastically. Steve walked over to my bedside and stood by Bucky's chair. He looked down at me, concerned. "Hey, how are you doing?"   
   "Just peachy," I answered. "Thank you guys for rescuing me. I don't think I'd have lasted much longer there."   
   Steve smiled. "No problem."   
   There was silence for a few moments. My stomach growled. "I'm hungry," I announced. "How about you guys?"  
   They nodded and Steve and Sam volunteered to go make breakfast. Bucky and I were left in the room. Looking down, I realized I was still wearing my torn, bloody jersey and shorts. Gross. I needed clean clothes.   
  I shifted, trying to get up. That failed quickly. Bucky noticed my stiffly abs asked what I needed. I flushed. How was I going to tell him I needed help changing? I wished I wasn't the only woman in the house. This would be awkward. I didn't know if he'd refuse. He might, I had no way of knowing. Oh well. I decided to just go for it.  
   "Can you help me change my clothes?"   
   He froze and I hastened to explain. "My current ones are covered in blood and it's pretty gross. I'd do it myself but I can't really move very well right now. I don't wanna reopen any wounds so I just need a little help. It's okay if you don't want-"  
  He cut me off, smiling. "It's okay, Juliet. No big deal. What clothes do you want?"   
   "A loose tank top and shorts would be fine." I directed him to where I Keith these items and he picked them out, walking back over to my bedside. I lifted my arms and he eased the shirt off me, averting his eyes slightly when it was off. I blushed as his fingers ghosted over my stomach, sending shivers down my spine. He gently pulled the tank top over my head, and I shrugged it the rest if the way on. Now for the shorts.   
   His face was red as he pushed my shorts down my legs, fingers barely touching my thighs. Every point of contact burned like fire and I felt my face heat up as well. His breathing grew slightly ragged-maybe I imagined it- and he quickly pushed the new shorts up my legs, handling the bullet wound gently. He tossed the bloody clothes in the corner and my face cooled down. It was over. I was relieved, but also missed the feeling of his touch on my bare skin.   
   Just then, Sam and Steve reentered the room carrying a platter of biscuits, bacon, eggs and grits, which they laid over my lap as I pulled myself into a sitting position. It smelled heavenly. I'd taught them well.   
   They left and returned with played for everyone else and we sat around, eating and talking. The food was delicious, my favorite breakfast. I had told them this once; it touched me that they had remembered.   
   As I was finishing the last of my grits, Steve announced that he had to tell me something. I raised my eyes to his and cocked it head curiously. "What is it?"  
  He answered, "We're moving."


	9. Chapter 9

The tower was enormous, standing out even among the numerous skyscrapers of New York. The giant "A" especially made it unique.  
Our driver parked the car in Stark's garage and led us inside, leaving us at the doorway.  
A cheerful blonde receptionist greeted us. "Hello!" She chirped, smiling. "I'm Regina, nice to meet you." She shook hands with each of us in turn, then looked at her computer screen. "Mr. Stark will be meeting you in just a few-"  
"Right now, actually," came a voice to our right. Tony Stark, dressed impeccably in a crisp suit, came striding toward us. "Capsicle!" He greeted Steve, who sighed and shook his hand. Stark turned to Bucky and me next. "I don't believe we've met."  
I held out my hand. "We haven't. I'm Juliet Morgan."  
He shook it. "Tony Stark."  
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Stark."  
"Call me Tony."  
"Then you can call me Juliet."  
Bucky did the same, looking uncomfortable. Tony sized us up.  
"I'll have nicknames for you two within a few days."  
I rolled my eyes and let him lead us to the elevator, punching in numbers without even looking at them. This guy knew his tower.  
"Alright, Spangles and Sam are on his floor, and Bucky is with Juliet on the one directly above them. That sound alright to everyone?" We nodded. He pointed out the floors. "Your names are on your room doors, feel free to explore, blah blah blah. I'll give you a tour later, my newest suit is calling me!"  
He took off as soon as the elevator stopped. I glanced at Steve. "Where is he going?"  
"To the lab to work on his suits, I think."  
"Oh okay."  
We reached Steve's floor and the elevator dinged. He and Sam got off. "Bye guys!" I waved. We'll come down as soon as we're settled in!"  
They nodded as the doors closed again. Within seconds we were at our floor. Bucky carried my bags as I hobbled along on those stupid crutches. I hated them with a passion, but not one strong enough to diminish my excitement. I was living in Stark Tower, in New York! I couldn't wait to see my room.  
Bucky opened the door for me and I thanked him, grinning at the sight of my room.  
It was huge. A queen sized bed had its head against one wall. A desk with a wheeled chair-the kind you loved as a child- sat near the corner. The room also boasted Bluetooth speakers, a radio, a TV, and a mini fridge. A door on the side opened into a spacious bathroom.  
Bucky set my bags down and left to see his room. I decided to unpack a bit later and hobbled around excitedly, going into the hallway and checking out the other rooms. We had an entire floor! There was a living room with a flat screen tv and two couches, a small kitchen stocked with the essentials, a library/reading room, and two guest rooms. I went back to my room and played Taylor Swift songs over the speakers as I unpacked.  
A few minutes later, Bucky came in quietly as I sang and awkwardly danced to Sparks Fly. I actually had a pretty good voice and was a decent dancer when one of my legs wasn't hurt. I was so deep in the song, I didn't even hesitate to pull him in and dance with him. He froze at first, uncertain, but fell into rhythm with me as I sang happily, grinning. Normally I wouldn't do this, and part of me screamed, what are you doing? Grabbing an assassin like that? Singing and dancing with him? But that part of me was small, as easily covered up by the part that said, it's New York! Live while you're young! Anything can happen here and if you want to dance with him, dance!  
So I did. Wildly, high on excitement and the feelings I'd been trying to crush, I danced with Bucky, who was an amazing dancer. My emotions were running high as I let loose, the pain in my leg forgotten, and I leaned in close to his ear, singing softly,  
"I'm captivated by you, baby, like a firework show."  
I leaned back out during the chorus, him spinning me around with ease. I smiled, still singing along. He smiled, and I really did see sparks fly.  
The song drew to a close. I didn't want it to end; I loved being this close to him. On the final note, he took the last of my breath away as he dipped me before pulling me upright and kissing me.  
Bucky's POV  
She was beautiful, he thought. So amazingly beautiful as she pulled him into the dance without an ounce of doubt, a second of hesitation. She sang beautifully as well, and hearing her repeatedly sing about kissing him killed him. He wanted nothing more than to do just that.  
So he did.  
As the song ended, he dipped her and held her there for a second, looking into her eyes before bringing her up and pressing his lips to hers, closing his eyes as the feeling enveloped him.  
Her lips were warm and gentle against his. He lost himself in the kiss as it deepened, drawing her closer as her hands went up to his hair. It was magical, and he never wanted to stop.  
Suddenly he was hit by a wave of self-disgust. What was he doing? He couldn't do this, didn't deserve this, didn't deserve her. He hated himself for doing this to her. She deserved so much better than him.  
He pulled away at this thought. He wasn't going to hold her any longer. He was dirty and she was clean. She didn't need him ruining her.  
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, eyes begging her to forgive him before he turned away and left the room, not hearing her call his name. He couldn't think about anything except his hatred for himself.  
Juliet's POV  
"Bucky!" I called, confused. "What's wrong?" He left, not responding. My eyes filled with tears. Did he not want to kiss me? Was I that unattractive? What had I done wrong?  
Everything my mother had called me came rushing back to me as I sat on my bed. I was ugly, unwanted, a freak. Just a freak that no one could ever care for. Had Bucky found out about me? About what I could do? Is that why he left?  
I didn't think so, not seeing a way he could have discovered my powers. He didn't know. He just left because he was that disgusted by me.  
Then came a wave of memories of what John used to say. I was hideous, unattractive, plain. I was lucky to have him even look at me. No one would ever truly love me.  
I found myself believing it. Again. It was a long time ago, almost seven years. But it still hurt. A flashback hit me as I lay back into my bed, still holding back tears.  
I was four years old, sitting on my bedroom floor, lifting building blocks with my newly discovered powers. My hands never once touched them, but they lifted into stacks, piles, structures. I smiled, intrigued by what I could do. This was fun!  
Just then my mother opened the door to my room. She saw what I was doing and screamed, dropping the laundry she was holding. "Freak!"  
Two years later, my first day of school. I came home, sad and disheartened. "Mommy, no one wanted to play with me at recess." She looked down at me disdainfully. "I'm not surprised," she said. "Not many people want to spend time around freaks. Get used to it honey. You'll probably never have friends." I shrunk back, hurt. Why was she saying this?  
I was huddled in a corner, crying, at eight years old. My mom yelled and screamed in a drunken rage because I had opened a door with my powers and a neighbor had almost seen. She threw a vase at me and I brought my hand up, instinctively batting it away without ever touching it. She screamed, "Freak!" and ran over, slapping me.  
The next six years were a blur of screams and hits. I took it and took it, until one day I couldn't anymore.  
Fourteen year old me packed my schoolbag full of clothes and necessities in the middle of the night, carefully quiet to avoid being heard. My mother and little sister were asleep in the other room. I opened the door, and walked out, leaving a note that said not to expect her back. I walked through the woods along the road, breathing in the cold night air. I was free. Free but alone.  
I opened my eyes, stopping the flashbacks. I didn't need to remember her. That part of my life was over. I kept telling myself that, kept telling myself that what she had said wasn't true. That I wasn't a freak, wasn't unwanted. That I was worth it.  
So why was it so hard to believe?


	10. Chapter 10

   The tower was enormous, standing out even among the numerous skyscrapers of New York. The giant "A" especially made it unique.   
  Our driver parked the car in Stark's garage and led us inside, leaving us at the doorway.   
  A cheerful blonde receptionist greeted us. "Hello!" She chirped, smiling. "I'm Regina, nice to meet you." She shook hands with each of us in turn, then looked at her computer screen. "Mr. Stark will be meeting you in just a few-"  
  "Right now, actually," came a voice to our right. Tony Stark, dressed impeccably in a crisp suit, came striding toward us. "Capsicle!" He greeted Steve, who sighed and shook his hand. Stark turned to Bucky and me next. "I don't believe we've met."  
  I held out my hand. "We haven't. I'm Juliet Morgan."  
  He shook it. "Tony Stark."  
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Stark."  
  "Call me Tony."  
  "Then you can call me Juliet."  
  Bucky did the same, looking uncomfortable. Tony sized us up.   
  "I'll have nicknames for you two within a few days."   
   I rolled my eyes and let him lead us to the elevator, punching in numbers without even looking at them. This guy knew his tower.   
  "Alright, Spangles and Sam are on his floor, and Bucky is with Juliet on the one directly above them. That sound alright to everyone?" We nodded. He pointed out the floors. "Your names are on your room doors, feel free to explore, blah blah blah. I'll give you a tour later, my newest suit is calling me!"  
  He took off as soon as the elevator stopped. I glanced at Steve. "Where is he going?"  
  "To the lab to work on his suits, I think."  
   "Oh okay."   
   We reached Steve's floor and the elevator dinged. He and Sam got off. "Bye guys!" I waved. We'll come down as soon as we're settled in!"   
   They nodded as the doors closed again. Within seconds we were at our floor. Bucky carried my bags as I hobbled along on those stupid crutches. I hated them with a passion, but not one strong enough to diminish my excitement. I was living in Stark Tower, in New York! I couldn't wait to see my room.   
  Bucky opened the door for me and I thanked him, grinning at the sight of my room.   
  It was huge. A queen sized bed had its head against one wall. A desk with a wheeled chair-the kind you loved as a child- sat near the corner. The room also boasted Bluetooth speakers, a radio, a TV, and a mini fridge. A door on the side opened into a spacious bathroom.   
  Bucky set my bags down and left to see his room. I decided to unpack a bit later and hobbled around excitedly, going into the hallway and checking out the other rooms. We had an entire floor! There was a living room with a flat screen tv and two couches, a small kitchen stocked with the essentials, a library/reading room, and two guest rooms. I went back to my room and played Taylor Swift songs over the speakers as I unpacked.   
  A few minutes later, Bucky came in quietly as I sang and awkwardly danced to Sparks Fly. I actually had a pretty good voice and was a good dancer when one of my legs wasn't hurt. I was so deep in the song, I didn't even hesitate to pull him in and dance with him. He froze at first, uncertain, but fell into rhythm with me as I sang happily, grinning. Normally I wouldn't do this, and part of me screamed, what are you doing? Grabbing an assassin like that? Singing and dancing with him? But that part of me was small, as easily covered up by the part that said, it's New York! Live while you're young! Anything can happen here and if you want to dance with him, dance!   
  So I did. Wildly, high on excitement and the feelings I'd been trying to crush, I danced with Bucky, who was an amazing dancer. My emotions were running high as I let loose, the pain in my leg forgotten, and I leaned in close to his ear, singing softly,  
  "I'm captivated by you, baby, like a firework show."   
   I leaned back out during the chorus, him spinning me around with ease. I smiled, still singing along. He smiled, and I really did see sparks fly.   
  The song drew to a close. I didn't want it to end; I loved being this close to him. On the final note, he took the last of my breath away as he dipped me before pulling me upright and kissing me.   
Bucky's POV   
   She was beautiful, he thought. So amazingly beautiful as she pulled him into the dance without an ounce of doubt, a second of hesitation. She sang beautifully as well, and hearing her repeatedly sing about kissing him killed him. He wanted nothing more than to do just that.   
  So he did.   
  As the song ended, he dipped her and held her there for a second, looking into her eyes before bringing her up and pressing his lips to hers, closing his eyes as the feeling enveloped him.   
  Her lips were warm and gentle against his. He lost himself in the kiss as it deepened, drawing her closer as her hands went up to his hair. It was magical, and he never wanted to stop.   
  Suddenly he was hit by a wave of self-disgust. What was he doing? He couldn't do this, didn't deserve this, didn't deserve her. He hated himself for doing this to her. She deserved so much better than him.   
   He pulled away at this thought. He wasn't going to hold her any longer. He was dirty and she was clean. She didn't need him ruining her.   
  "I'm sorry," he mumbled, eyes begging her to forgive him before he turned away and left the room, not hearing her call his name. He couldn't think about anything except his hatred for himself.   
Juliet's POV   
  "Bucky!" I called, confused. "What's wrong?" He left, not responding. My eyes filled with tears. Did he not want to kiss me? Was I that unattractive? What had I done wrong?   
   Everything my mother had called me came rushing back to me as I sat on my bed. I was ugly, unwanted, a freak. Just a freak that no one could ever care for. Had Bucky found out about me? About what I could do? Is that why he left?   
  I didn't think so, not seeing a way he could have discovered my powers. He didn't know. He just left because he was that disgusted by me.   
   Then came a wave of memories of what John used to say. I was hideous, unattractive, plain. I was lucky to have him even look at me. No one would ever truly love me.   
  I found myself believing it. Again. It was a long time ago, almost seven years. But it still hurt. A flashback hit me as I lay back into my bed, still holding back tears.   
I was four years old, sitting on my bedroom floor, lifting building blocks with my newly discovered powers. My hands never once touched them, but they lifted into stacks, piles, structures. I smiled, intrigued by what I could do. This was fun!   
   Just then my mother opened the door to my room. She saw what I was doing and screamed, dropping the laundry she was holding. "Freak!"  
   Two years later, my first day of school. I came home, sad and disheartened. "Mommy, no one wanted to play with me at recess." She looked down at me disdainfully. "I'm not surprised," she said. "Not many people want to spend time around freaks. Get used to it, honey. You'll probably never have friends." I shrunk back, hurt. Why was she saying this?  
  I was huddled in a corner, crying, at eight years old. My mom yelled and screamed in a drunken rage because I had opened a door with my powers and a neighbor had almost seen. She threw a vase at me and I brought my hand up, instinctively batting it away without ever touching it. She screamed, "Freak!" and ran over, slapping me.   
  The next six years were a blur of screams and hits. I took it and took it, until one day I couldn't anymore.   
  Fourteen year old me packed my schoolbag full of clothes and necessities in the middle of the night, carefully quiet to avoid being heard. My mother and little sister were asleep in the other room. I opened the door, and walked out, leaving a note that said not to expect her back. I walked through the woods along the road, breathing in the cold night air. I was free. Free but alone.   
   I opened my eyes, stopping the flashbacks. I didn't need to remember her. That part of my life was over. I kept telling myself that, kept telling myself that what she had said wasn't true. That I wasn't a freak, wasn't unwanted. That I was worth it.   
  So why was it so hard to believe?


End file.
